


Ending one minute at a time

by gottalovev



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Captivity, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-18
Updated: 2011-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Danny have been kidnapped. To protect Danny and buy time in hope for a rescue, Steve will have to fight with all he's got. Whatever the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ending one minute at a time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siluria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siluria/gifts).



> This fic was written before the finale, therefore doesn't take into account what happened then. Take it as firmly set in season 1, or else an AU or a possible future.

There's a faint background noise that gets louder and louder as Steve struggles with consciousness. The second sensation to make itself known is a deep throbbing pain in his head and, fuck, it's bad. He must wince because the noise has rearranged itself into Danny's voice, urging him on.

"Come on, come on Steve! That's it, yeah, are you with me buddy?"

As Steve gets his bearings a little bit, he realizes that his head is resting on a strong thigh and that fingers are softly going though his hair, touching his face in light caresses. That and the fact that Danny sounds scared makes Steve believe whatever happened was pretty bad. He tries to remember... they were in a warehouse? Danny will know, so Steve starts to open his eyes, but it's hard, it's like the world wants to vanish again.

"Oh, hey, is that you waking up?" Danny shakes him a little and Steve does a sound of protest from deep in his throat. It hurts his head, god, the shaking _and_ the talking.

"Shutup," Steve manages to slur.

It makes Danny chuckle.

"See, was that so hard? Shit, Steve, I’ve never been so glad that you're so hardheaded. I thought they had brained you and that you were in a coma, you fucker. Never scare me like that again."

"What in shut up don't you understand?" Steve says as he finally opens his eyes, and yep, he's being cradled in Danny's lap, who's grinning down at him with relief.

"If annoying you is the price so you don't die, I'll gladly pay it."

"My head hurts." Steve might be whining a bit, but it is bad. At least he's not really nauseous, just woozy.

"No shit, Sherlock," Danny says, looking worried and his face comes so close Steve is almost startled. "Your pupils look equal at least, you freak. I'm starting to think you're made of rubber like those super balls."

"Was I out long?"

"It depends on what time it is, but I came to at least 30 minutes ago myself. You pussy."

Steve notices the bruise on Danny's jaw and reaches to touch it lightly. Shit. So they'd beaten him unconscious too and the strong anger at that makes Steve's head clear up almost completely. No one touches his Team, no one touches _Danny_ and gets away with it unpunished.

"I'm okay," Danny says, soothing, probably reading everything on his face. "Now if you're done napping, maybe we could see how we could get out of this cage? No pressure or anything."

A cage? It's proof that he got hit real hard over the head or that civilian life is making him lapse that the only thing Steve has done since coming to was to focus on Danny. A quick look around shows that the cage is about ten by six, and maybe seven feet high, with bars as the top, too. The wall at Danny's back and the ground are rough concrete. On each side are other cages seemingly in a row and to his left Steve makes eye contact with a huge Rottweiler with an ear in shreds, watching them warily, and who growls low in his throat at the attention.

"I've named him Bob," Danny says. "And yes, it seems we're in a fucking kennel."

Bob's growling sets the dog in the next cage barking, which serves in turn as a catalyst for every dog in the place losing their shit. The sound, echoing in the room, makes Steve's head hurt so much it's like it's going to split in two and he clamps his hands on his ears and curls on his side, trying not to let slip the pathetic whimpers he wants to make. After breathing deeply a couple of times Steve realizes his face is practically mashed to Danny's groin, who's carding his fingers in Steve's hair again. Okay, so that could be awkward and since the dogs seem to have mostly shut up, Steve rolls again and slowly takes his hands off his head; he can handle this, there's maybe three dogs still barking.

"Hurts bad, huh?" Danny brushes hair off Steve's forehead, who wonders why touches like that feel so normal, expected even. He's been close to men in his units before, but it was nothing like this. But again, everything that has to do with Danny throws Steve for a loop and has from day one.

"Yeah," Steve admits.

"I'm fresh out of analgesics, sorry," Danny says, but he starts rubbing at Steve's temples. "Does this help?"

It really does so Steve nods, "It's good, real good."

"Behold the patented Williams magic fingers," Danny says with a chuckle, starting a scalp massage. It hurts when he touches the back of Steve's head where he's been hit, but overall it's bone-melting good and Steve dares to relax into it, closing his eyes and willing the pain away.

"When I woke up, I played dead and tried to listen to the guys in the truck but they didn't give away where we were going. I had a filthy rag over my head, so I couldn't see either, but the road was rough, definitely dirt. We were dragged and dumped in here, and I haven't seen anyone since."

"How many men?" Steve asks.

"Again, I had that rag, so I'm not sure. Definitely two taking me in, two dragging your sorry ass and at least three other voices. I'd say we're in a camp of some sort because there are vehicles outside sometimes. The lock on the door is sturdy, the bars too."

It's time he has a look, so Steve reluctantly lifts his head from Danny's thigh and slowly sits up. His head still hurts, but it's a little better. Danny has a hand on his back to keep him steady and Steve uses the touch to ground himself.

"You think you're gonna live?" Danny asks.

"You won't get rid of me that easily."

Danny snorts and Steve gets to his feet, reassured he's steady and that there's no nausea. Bob the dog starts growling again, but thankfully the others stay put this time. The bars are three-quarters of an inch iron rods, solidly set in the concrete and spaced three inches apart, with welded transverse bars every two feet. The door is the same, with exterior closed hinges, the lock is definitely sturdy, and there's absolutely nothing that has any give when Steve tries to shake it.

"So, can you MacGyver us out?"

The best would be to have something to work on the lock or on the hinges, but they've been searched. Steve finds nothing, not even a paperclip, in his pockets – not that it would have been enough anyway – and their watches and belts are gone.

"Doesn't look promising," Steve says, gripping the bars over his head and pulling with all of his strength, which gives absolutely nothing. "But I'll find a way."

"I'm sure you will," Danny says, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. "And even if you don't, Chin and Kono will find us."

Steve smiles at Danny's confident tone. Yeah, there's that, too. Chin and Kono won't stop searching until they're free. Steve takes in Danny's dirty clothes and drawn features: he looks as exhausted as Steve feels. Maybe taking a little nap is the best thing to do right now, so Steve goes to sit close enough to bump shoulders with Danny (he'd prefer resting on his lap again, but Steve tries to contain those impulses the best he can and not blur the lines between them even more than they are). He can feel Danny leaning on him a little and that, more than anything, makes Steve feel better. He always complains, but Danny trusts him, with his life even. Steve will make sure to be worthy of that trust and get them out as soon as possible.

****

Danny and Steve got jumped and captured in a warehouse in Waikiki around 9 am, hours and hours ago, and the day now drags. After resting for a bit, Steve inspects the cage bar by bar under Bob's supervision, but doesn't find any weak spots. Danny gets unusually quiet as the day passes, staying put in a corner of the cage and barely needling Steve along, though he bitches at having to piss in the empty cage to their right, which doesn't help the smell in the place. The sun sets, and the shed they're in grows dark pretty fast.

There's a lot of movement outside, vehicles coming and going especially in the last hour or so, voices that drift to them with an occasional laugh. Danny tried crying out for help, but no one came. At one point a woman's voice had quieted just after a shout, proving she'd heard him, but nothing else happened. They don't see a soul, in fact, and Steve's thirsty, hungry and getting angrier. He can deal with being captive, but he's always hated the waiting game. That, out of everything, tells him that their captor is a force to reckon with. Someone cocky would have come to taunt them way earlier.

But as Steve's grandma used to say, all things come to those who wait, because a couple of hours after sunset the door finally opens, which gets the dogs barking again. It's a young guy with a kibble pouch over his shoulder, and who doesn't even look their way even after he switches on the meek fluorescent lights scattered on the ceiling.

"Hey, you!" Danny's on his feet now and he shouts at the guy. "Would it be too much to ask that you'd open this door?"

As expected, the young man doesn't answer or stop feeding the dogs, which consists in dumping kibbles through the bars.

"Come on!" Danny insists when the guy walks in front of them and stops for Bob, who's expressing friendly behavior for the first time since Steve's laid eyes on him, making happy little sounds and twisting his whole body in the attempt to waggle his tiny tail as much as he can. "I'll make it worth your while."

Obviously the kid has orders to not even engage them because he plays deaf, moving along.

"Great, that's just great!" Danny says, throwing his hands in the air. "What about us? Do we get fed anytime soon? The service truly sucks in this joint!"

The boy finishes his round and hurries for the door, and that make Danny furious. He kicks the cage's door, hard, and he's going to hurt himself if he continues like that.

"Danny..." Steve says, trying to calm him with a hand on his shoulder. Danny turns on him so fast Steve takes a step back.

"Don't Danny me, okay?" He's almost snarling. "You might be trained for this, but I take being taken prisoner very badly, if you didn't notice. If it was just you and me, okay, fine, not my favorite way to spend the day but I'll live. But what about Grace, huh? I was supposed to get her after classes today. I sure hope she wasn't left waiting on the school steps for me, that no one took her and that she's home safe." Danny doesn't even let Steve put a word in as he continues, sounding more and more distressed. "And if she is, safely home, do you think someone told her I'm missing yet? That her dad was taken by bad guys, but hey, he might come back or not, it depends. Rachel is going to kill me for worrying her like that, mark my words."

Steve lets him rant and it's no wonder Danny's been so subdued, if he was bottling it all up. He might bitch and rant about everything under the sun, but Steve has learned that Danny's usually discreet with the stuff that really bothers him until he explodes from too much emotion.

"You know she's okay," Steve says, watching Danny who's now pacing right and left, hands in his hair. "Chin notified Rachel for sure when they couldn't reach us all day, you know that. We all know your custody schedule, Danny; no one would leave your little girl on the school's steps."

Danny doesn't answer but he visibly calms down a bit.

"I hate this."

Steve's about to say he hates it just as much when the door opens again. Four thugs with AK-47's precede a skinny man in a linen suit who surveys the room and smirks when his gaze stops on their cage. It's Ben Kigin, a big player in the import/export business who has a spotless record but who has been suspected of bringing more than rugs and foreign crafts into Hawaii for years. Up until now, HPD and Five-0 had found absolutely no evidence that linked him to arms, drugs or anything illegal. Steve and Danny were having a look at one of his warehouses that morning on a spur-of-the-moment-we're-in-the-neighborhood kind of way, trying to spot at least some employees with shady records, when they were jumped from behind and promptly knocked out. That Kigin is showing his face right now doesn't bode well for their odds of survival; Danny knows it too and forces a smile.

"Look, Steven, an upstanding citizen has heard our cries for help and is here to free us. We'll be eternally grateful, Mister Kigin."

Kigin laughs, pointing at Danny.

"You're funny! I like that. How are you tonight, gentlemen?"

"Peachy," Danny says, though Steve just stares, waiting to see what is up. "I'd prefer walking out, but eh."

With a circular motion Kigin encompasses the shed and cages.

"Do you like the place? It's a little crude, but it's where I keep my special pets."

Unsurprisingly, Danny reacts strongly to that one.

"Pet? I've been called a pig or even a dog before, a bull on occasion, it comes with the job, but a pet?"

Kigin's smile is all teeth.

"That's exactly it. I intend to keep you as long as I feel like it." After a pause and a shrug, Kigin adds, "and when that stops being fun..." The outcome seems none of his concern and Steve interprets the words as the death sentence they probably are.

"Yeah, then what? We get a bullet to the head?" Danny says, miming it. "We suspected you were a weasel and a crook, Kigin, not a kidnapper and a murderer."

"I don't have to be," Kigin says with a smile. "Be good little pets and everything is going to be fine."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Danny's tone is climbing again, which makes Kigin smile wider. He enjoys riling Danny up - honestly, Steve understands the impulse - and it could become a problem.

"All in time, Detective Williams." Kigin touches one of his goons' arms. "Slim, cuff McGarrett and bring him to my office. Remember what I said."

"Yes, Sir," Slim - who's three hundred pounds at least - says, taking a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and passing his AK-47 to one of his friends.

Kigin leaves with one of his men and the others take position around the cage, far enough from each other that Steve knows he could maybe take one out with a little momentum but not both of them. They take off their safeties and aim as Slim dangles the handcuffs.

"Turn around, McGarrett, hands clasped behind your back and stay near the bars. Shorty goes face against the wall, hands where I can see them. One of you tries something, we shoot the other. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Steve says, getting into position. He won't risk Danny's life unnecessarily, and anyway for now what's important is to know exactly what they are up against. Danny sighs loudly.

"How wonderful," he grumbles, leaning against the wall as if he's about to get searched.

Slim clamps the cuffs real tight around Steve's wrists, enough that even taking his thumbs out of their sockets wouldn't be enough to get free. Only then does Slim get the key.

"You're going to come nice and easy, or we shoot him. Bill's staying here, on the radio. You even make a twitch that looks like you're trying to escape and he's dead. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, come on already," Steve says, getting frustrated. Slim puts a smelly burlap sack over his head as soon as he's out of the cage, and then Steve hears the door getting closed and locked again. It's just his luck that they got caught by someone with a brain who knows exactly where to put pressure and with henchmen that for the moment play by the book as the perfect hostage takers, so Steve obeys, at least for now. Steve's only hope is that they'll get complacent after a while, sloppy. He'll find an opening, eventually.

He's being marched to the door, the muzzle of a rifle between his shoulder blades when Danny cries out.

"Don't try something stupid out there! You hear me, Steve?"

"Don't worry," Steve says. "I'll be right back."

****

The walk to Ben Kigin's supposed office takes less than six minutes, where Slim stays close and the other goon not that far behind. Halfway there, barely muffled rock music starts to play, the bass line echoing in the night. When they enter some kind of structure, the music is as loud as at a nightclub and there's the unmistakable sound of a group of people, too. Steve's ordered to climb some stairs, twenty of them, before another door closes behind him and his escort, muffling the music once more.

"Oh, there you are!" It's Kigin's voice, sounding pleased. "Just in time, too. My guests are getting impatient for the show to start."

Steve has no idea what he's talking about until the burlap sack is taken off his head. He's standing in front of a window, overlooking the main room below. Spotlights are trained on a mixed martial arts octagon cage, with a crowd of maybe fifty all around, mostly men but with a fair share of women, laughing and mingling with drinks in their hands. There are almost nude exotic dancers in - oh, surprise! - even more cages, contorting to the music. At first glance Steve makes out at least ten men on security duty, heavily armed.

"I can't wait to throw you in a jail cell," Steve says. "You'll feel right at home."

Kigin laughs.

"Oh, the good Commander has a sense of humor, too! I thought that was your partner's department."

"What do you want, Kigin?" Steve asks, turning his back to the window. Slim and his friend are watchful and Kigin is out of reach, on the other side of a big desk. Maybe it's really his office, for all of those operations they've been trying so hard to find evidence of. Steve would bet his paycheck that there is enough to convict Kigin right there in the stacks of paper grouped in neat little piles.

"That's simple. If you entertain me, you and your partner live. So you're going to go down there in the octagon and fight for my guests."

 _Fight?_ Steve frowns, wondering what game he's playing. "What?"

"It isn't hard to understand! You fight, you live to see another day. You lose, you die. Williams dies too. End of story. Go now," Kigin gestures at his guard who points his AK-47 at Steve, then the door.

The death threats could only be bluff... but Steve can't take the chance, not while Danny is at risk. With Slim still checking his every move, Steve goes down the stairs, trying to gather as much info as possible. There's a little hallway, and through it he's taken near a door where, on the other side, the music - heavy metal now - gets impossibly louder. When the door opens, Steve is half blinded by powerful spots trained on him, and he stumbles when Slim shoves him forward roughly. He's being led through a passageway made of chicken mesh that links the door to the octagon, still cuffed, and the audience is screaming; those close enough are hitting on the fence, looking demented for the most part. It's frankly surreal and as Steve walks towards the opened octagon door while being yelled obscenities at, he wonders if the fenced passage is to protect the guests or the fighters. There's no use for Steve to try and get someone to help: everyone can see he's cuffed and held at gunpoint; if there's someone with a conscience in the joint, maybe HPD will get an anonymous tip later (he won't count on it, though).

Slim closes the octagon's cage door once Steve's in, and then wiggles the handcuff keys. Steve puts his back to the door while they are taken off, and Slim has to yell to be understood.

"The fight is to the death."

Steve whips around and grabs the bars. He can't be serious.

"Death?"

A nod from Slim. "If the winner doesn't kill, he gets shot. Only one person makes it out alive."

It's fucked up, but Steve's heard of underground fighting rings like this, where people get off seeing death in motion and are ready to pay the big price to attend.

The noise level that had abated picks back up and Steve rolls his shoulders and wonders for a second if he should lose the shirt; his opponent is now coming through his own fence passageway on the other side of the octagon. The guy seems to be there of his own free will, in boxing shorts, taped hands high in the air and a big grin on his face as the little crowd urges him on. He's well built, maybe a bit taller than Steve, but thinner too, muscles like whip cords; the most distinctive thing about him are the tattoos all over his body, including snakes creeping up his neck and ending on the edge of his jaw, with other small ones coming out of his ears. As he enters the octagon, Tattoo Guy sneers at Steve and makes a cutthroat movement, which seems appreciated by the spectators.

There's no referee in the cage, so the fight starts when Tattoo Guy just hurls himself at Steve, who quite easily manages to throw him aside, using his momentum, and makes him roll on the floor. Tattoo Guy gets back to his feet looking furious, obviously humiliated, and his anger is a point in Steve's favor. He's always been good at hand to hand, but Steve's dehydrated and hungry, his headache has picked up because of the noise and he’s definitely not at his best for this. Tattoo Guy is throwing punches intending to hurt, nothing fair, and Steve lets the training take over, reacting and lashing back. The music, crowd and fight make adrenaline kick in and Steve gets tired of the nonsense pretty fast. He doesn't want to give a show, he just wants to get out of there and make sure Danny's still okay, so when he has enough data on Tattoo's defenses Steve goes all in. A roundhouse kick brings the guy down hard and Steve's on him with a choke-hold right after. Tattoo tries to buck him off, desperate, but he's not going anywhere and Steve holds position as the struggling weakens. When Tattoo Guy falls unconscious, Steve's about to let go when he raises his eyes and sees Slim pointing the AK his way.

Right. Kill or be killed. Kill or get _Danny_ killed. Steve holds on.

***

The burlap sack reappears for the trek back to the kennel, with Steve's hands cuffed behind his back again. He's got proof Danny's still there even before entering the shed.

"No, seriously, what's going on out there, Bill? Oh, I know! A dance party! Is that it? Give me a bone here!"

"He doesn't seem to get the joke, Danny," Steve says as he's pushed inside. "Too subtle for his tiny brain, obviously."

"Well duh!" Danny says, but he sounds less on edge. "So they've brought you back, after all. I wondered."

"Up against the wall again, Cop," Slim orders. Steve's steered inside the kennel cage before the door clanks shut and it's locked once again. Only then is the burlap taken off, then the cuffs, before Slim and friends leave. Danny's by his side in seconds, checking him over, especially the new bruise on his jaw where Tattoo Guy managed a decent right hook.

"What did Kigin want? He tried to beat some info out of you? Or does he get off watching people get hit?" Danny asks.

Trust Danny to guess the man's main motivation that fast.

"The latter. He has his own octagon, made me fight," Steve says.

Danny shakes his head and makes a disapproving sound.

"Lame. I suppose you kicked the other guy's ass?" he says with utmost confidence, going to the corner of the cell.

It's true, but it's not like Steve's proud of what he's done. That he killed a man, a civilian, on the order of a criminal is just starting to register.

"Yeah."

"That's my boy," Danny says, coming back with a bottle of water and one of those disgusting pre-packed sandwiches you generally find at gas stations. "Here. We finally had room service."

Steve cracks the bottle open and takes several gulps before realizing it's their only one and giving it back to Danny.

"Why didn't you take any?"

Danny shrugs, drinks a bit.

"I could wait. Ready to risk salmonella?" he says, wiggling the sandwich.

"Not yet, you go ahead."

"Smart. Then you'll see if I keel over first." Danny takes a tentative bite, chews with his serious face on, then hums and devours the rest in almost no time at all. Steve can't help but snort with amusement to see his cheeks stuffed like a squirrel.

"Not so bad, then?"

Danny gestures while shaking his head and takes a gulp of water before he's able to talk.

"You'd be wrong, there, it's absolutely terrible. But it's food and I'm famished, so it will have to do."

The other half of the sandwich is shoved in his hands and Steve is tempted to tell Danny to go ahead and eat it but he'd refuse. He drinks a bit more water instead and goes to sit against the wall and puts the food beside him for later, maybe. Now that the adrenaline is coming down, Steve knows he's going to crash soon.

"I guess there's nothing much to do now but wait and see," Danny says.

That's exactly it so Steve tips his head against the cement wall and closes his eyes. His mind is reeling, playing over and over the sensation of choking that guy to death and he needs to shove it down and not think about it at all until they are out of this mess. Danny sits next to him, close enough that Steve feels his body heat.

"I'm sure Chin and Kono will be here soon, anyway," Danny says, making it sound like a promise.

***

Their second day in the kennel isn't any more entertaining than the first, far from it. Steve knows they're trapped, for now, with nothing to work on the bars or the cement holding them. Danny is a bit less subdued than he was the day before, but he's still moody and Steve asks him stupid questions about New Jersey just to make him react a bit. His most creative to date was finally using facts from that website on stupid laws in the Garden State - he'd been hoarding those for the perfect moment - which prompted a 20 minute rant on how ridiculous it was to even check those things. Not nearly as much as "You may not throw a bad pickle in the street" from the city of Trenton, if you asked Steve.

The guy who takes care of the dogs comes in the afternoon to roughly clean the cages by spraying the floor with a hose. He acts as if he's deaf, unmoved by Danny's attempts to have him help.

"I hope you realize you are a minnow in Kigin's food chain, kid. From what I see, you're just doing your job but you could do so much better than here. Help us go, or, if you can't do that, which I can understand what with the guys with guns all around, then just let someone know that we're here and I swear, I swear I'll find you a job that is better than cleaning dog shit."

Steve knows it won't change anything, but if it makes Danny feel better to try... so be it. Once the guy is gone, the place smells a bit better but it's still a long way from being decent. Danny slumps back against the wall, hands gripping his hair and Steve hates seeing him like that.

"Kigin is trying to break us," Steve unhelpfully says.

Danny scoffs. "You think I don't _know_ that?"

"Then don't let him win. You've got to trust we'll get out, you've got to believe everything is going to be okay," Steve urges.

That earns him a half smile. "You're sure of that, aren't you?"  
"You aren't?" Steve counters.

Danny squares his shoulders a bit, takes a big breath.

"Of course. We're going to be fine. It's just... I don't like small spaces all that much. Not being able to move. It's getting to me, I'll admit that."

It makes sense, with all the space Danny takes up with his personality and constant movement. Steve hums. "You must really hate your apartment, then," he deadpans.

Danny laughs, genuine for a moment and the bad joke earns Steve a sharp hit to the arm. He protests, making a show of rubbing the spot but he can't stop grinning.

***

At about the same time as the day before, the guy on dog maintenance brings back the kibble and the kennel explodes with barks from the hungry dogs.

"What's your name, kid?" Danny asks, though he gets no answer. "Okay, fine, be like that. I'm gonna call you Johnny. Is that to your liking?"

"He does look like a Johnny," Steve agrees.

"Thank you, Steven. It warms my heart that we agree on such important issues."

Johnny doesn't react one way or another, but he passes right by Bob without feeding him, which causes some pathetic whining from the big Rott.

"Hey, that's not fair. What did Bob do?" Danny protests on his behalf.

Once he's done feeding the mutts, Johnny puts away the kibble pouch and comes back with a leash. Bob is jumping near the door, anticipating that he's about to get out.

"Shit, you have _keys_?" Danny says when Johnny gets Bob out, fastening the leash first. "Come on, man, leave ours here. We'll wait 'til you're gone to make a break."

Of course it doesn't work. Johnny heads out of the shed with a bounding Bob and Danny's back at hitting the bars in frustration. Steve's keeping an ear out and just as he thought there are more and more cars driving by, the sound of doors being closed and laughter drifting to them. It can only mean one thing and Steve starts pacing, or he tries anyway. He can barely take two steps before he has to turn around.

"What's gotten into you, all of a sudden?" Danny asks. "You've been annoyingly calm and composed all day, getting on my last nerve, I'll have you know, and now you decide to make the best impression ever of a tiger at the zoo?"

"He's going to have me fight someone again," Steve says.

Will have him _kill_ again, he doesn't say. But no, no, Steve's thought of it all day and he won't do it. He might be beaten to a pulp for it, but it will be worth it. There's barely any chance that Kigin would kill them, not right now when they've just been captured. Kigin is not tired of playing with them yet.

"Oh. That's actually quite probable," Danny says, and right on cue the door opens and it's Slim and friends. Still armed, still cautious and Steve will play along for that part, will let himself be cuffed and go with them to take the threat further away from Danny. He's got the burlap sack over his head once more and is heading through the door when Danny shouts out.

"Don't you dare get hurt, McGarrett!"

"I'll be right back, Danno," Steve says, perfectly aware it's the same thing he said the day before. And he will, though he doesn't know in what condition he'll be.

***

Going up the stairs, Steve hears shouts and whistles through the music and figures that there are other fights before him. Or maybe he gets a day off, who knows how Kigin's mind works. When he can see again, Steve's by the window once more and Kigin is a couple of paces away watching down with rapt attention. Curious in spite of himself, Steve looks too and he really should not be surprised by what he sees. There's a fight in the octagon alright, but it's Bob and some pit-bull mix. Steve has always hated dog fights so he turns his back to the window.

"I won't kill, next time," Steve says.

Kigin shrugs.

"Then you'll get shot. To be honest, some of my guests love when that happens. It's funny how they get off so much on seeing someone die because he has principles."

It disgusts Steve, it doesn't amuse him at all.

"I won't kill," he repeats.

"Then you're no use to me, unless..." Kigin pauses, giving Steve an appreciative once over that makes his skin crawl. "There are other ways to make me happy," he continues, biting his lip, beady blue eyes suddenly lascivious.

Oh shit, no. Another mind game, until it's not.

"No," Steve spits out. "I'll take the bullet."

Kigin puts a hand over his heart with mock humor, but his eyes turn cold.

"You wound me, pet." He turns to Slim. "Have him fight, and shoot him if he doesn't do what he's got to do. Tomorrow night, bring me Williams."

Steve manages to stay stoic but his mind is rebelling at the mere idea of it. Chin and Kono just need a bit more time; they'll get to Danny first. Kigin knows he's scoring points, though, and has a cruel smile.

"I couldn't help but notice what a nice ass he has."

It's totally involuntary but Steve snarls and he leaps towards Kigin, before being yanked backwards by one of the goons who has grabbed the chain between the cuffs and holds strong as Steve struggles to go forward. It's satisfying to see the flash of fear in Kigin's eyes for a moment, but he rapidly laughs it off. Slim yells for him to calm down and Steve only does when he has the cold muzzle of an AK at the base of his neck.

"Did I hit a nerve? I've had you observed, Commander, before all of this, and I'm reasonably sure that you'd hate anyone but you touching that pert ass, hmmm?"

"You fucking scumbag!" Steve hisses, stomach churning because yes, that's true, he's been desperately crushing on Danny for a good long while but it's supposed to be his secret, not something to exploit by a lowlife like Ben Kigin. "I'll fight, I'll do it, but if you even touch one hair on Danny's head, I'll rip your intestines out by your throat, I swear to god."

He's saying too much, making both Danny and himself vulnerable and he should play it cool, but Steve can't help it. Kigin rolls his eyes.

"Yeah yeah. I'll make you a deal: you do what is asked and Williams stays put in his cage. How about that?" Kigin dares to make a look-at-how-nice-I-am face, offering that as a favor.

"Fine," Steve says, finally calming down though his blood is still pumping. He doesn't trust Kigin as far as he can throw him, but the immediate threat seems gone.

"Bring him down," Kigin says.

Even knowing what to expect, walking through the corridor to the octagon still feels surreal with the commotion the so-called guests cause. The plywood floor of the octagon has been hosed down and is still wet, and Steve tests how slippery it is with his boot. Slim frees him of the cuffs and this time Steve decides to take his shirt off, which will lower the risks of being grabbed by his opponent. As he strips he gets wolf whistled, although the focus of the crowd's attention shifts to the other guy who's being led to the cage while Steve passes his shirt and t-shirt through the fence back at Slim.

The guy looks like a bulldog, compact and with strong shoulders, and he's definitely not showing off like the first, he means business. When the doors are closed and it's only the two of them, idiots of the crowd looking on notwithstanding, the man extends his fist for a knuckle brush, a show of respect reflected in dark brown eyes; a "may the best man win" without words. It makes Steve curse the situation some more because he doesn't want to kill him, doesn't want to think that this man maybe has a family and kids at home.

The first - hard, so hard - punch forces Steve to get his head in the game, though; he doesn't want to lose. Losing means dying here, but more than that it means Kigin will get to Danny next and that can't happen. Training kicks in once more and the opening comes, at last, for Steve to hit the guys with the heel of his hand, up and hard on the nose, one of the many ways he's been taught to incapacitate and maim. The crowd gasps and then cheers wildly when Steve's opponent crumbles to the ground. Panting, Steve crouches by his side, checks for a pulse that isn't there and closes the man's eyes with a whispered apology.

His job is done for the night, Steve thinks with a touch of hysterics, and he goes to stand obediently near the door to be cuffed again.

***

The guests are starting to arrive, that much is clear with the sounds outside and the fact it's been dark for a while; Steve tries the best he can to block it all out, to stay in his head. He has killed before this, men he'd been pointed towards as a weapon and he never questioned it, always trusted it was the right thing to do, that his superiors had good reasons for asking this of him. He's taken down many perps doing his job with Five-0, even, and never lost any sleep over it. There are so many deaths Steve will have to answer for some day, so it should be just a couple more that he doesn't know how to avoid. It's not that simple, though. Steve's been taught to put distress and pain in little boxes, sealed tight and buried deep down until it's time to deal with them. He does his best at the moment, and wonders if it will be enough.

"You're awfully quiet," Danny says and Steve opens his eyes, look sideways at him. They're sitting with their backs to the wall and Danny has a hand through the bars in Bob's cage, petting his head. They've been friends since Bob came back from his own fight with a bad leg and Danny shared his food in sympathy. For a moment Steve is jealous of the attention the dog is getting and that makes him hit his head against the wall, not his best idea with the residual pain that still lingers. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"I don't want to go." His voice is rusty, and Steve realizes that he didn't hold his end of the conversations today, letting Danny fill the silence.

"If it's any consolation, I don't want you to go either. I can hear them, you know, yelling through the music."

"They're so fucking loud." They watch so closely, too, giddy to see him lose pieces of his soul.

Slim enters the shed and Steve springs to his feet. He can't avoid the fights, but he can get through them as fast as he can. He goes with his back to the door and Danny frowns, upset with something, before getting in position too.

"That's it, Dog," Slim says, as always flanked with his two armed buddies, who are still too careful so there's no chance to escape. "Good boy."

Steve grits his teeth and Danny curses.

"You son of a bitch. He's an ass, Steve. Don't let him get to you."

"It's okay," Steve says as the burlap sack is put on his head. "See you later."

As he's pushed outside towards the building with the ring Steve counts his steps, and it seems that Slim and company don't find tripping him as amusing as they used to because it takes a good twenty steps less than the night before, practically in a straight line, to get there. Once inside, Steve stops: he won't go up to Kigin's office.

"Bring me to the cage," he says and he's surprised when he's led toward the corridor without protests.

"The boss is busy anyways, come on."

Steve gets his shirt off when he's in the octagon and instead of avoiding the eyes of the spectators, he tries to commit their faces to memory. When they get out, because they _will_ get out, Steve is going to find those motherfuckers and shit will hit the fan. It disgusts him to see so many women with diamonds and men with five thousand dollar suits, rich and blasé enough to find their thrill through violence and live deaths. He's being scrutinized right back and his scowl doesn't seem a deterrent at all, judging by the way he's leered at.

What is for sure is that Steve will do what he has to do as fast as he can and leave them on their appetite. Rolling his shoulders and neck, Steve tries to get in the right head space, if such a thing exists, hands gripped in the mesh as he waits for the bout to start. All of his mental conditioning is derailed when he hears the other door close and turns to sees the fighter now with him in the cage: it's a young Asian looking man, a kid, most probably not even twenty yet. Steve looks up at the window where he knows Kigin is and if his hate could be channeled in a laser beam, the freak would burn. The kid takes a couple of steps towards him and Steve yells over the music:

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The young guy has a half smile, but the cockiness doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you, and get 25 grand for it," he says.

"Come on, you have no chance. I know that, he knows that," Steve says, pointing to the office. "Maybe we can convince them to let you go if neither of us fight."

Unfortunately, the kid doesn't want to hear reason and charges him, hits with all he has and it messes with Steve so much that it barely hurts. He doesn't even hit back, just protects himself and pleads with the kid to stop. It gives nothing and the crowd starts to boo, unsatisfied. Steve's backed against the mesh with his forearms over his face, and suddenly Slim is behind him, yelling right by his ear.

"Goddammit, McGarrett, fight back!"

"No."

He's going to be black and blue with bruises - because the boy might not hit hard enough to injure him badly but it stings none the less - but Steve can sustain this for hours without anyone dying; they'll grow bored and do a rematch with someone else. As long as the kid insists to hit him on the arms and body and doesn't wise up to hit him in the groin, the knees or other weaker parts, he's going to be fine.

"If you don't hit back, I have orders to shoot him in the gut," Slim says. "You know the rule, only one person gets out tonight. Or do _you_ want the bullet?"

Steve is fucked either way, that much is clear. If he decides this is enough and dies to save this kid, then possibly Danny's going be brought to fight him the day after. Danny's not a killer, not like Steve, he could not cope with it and it would destroy him inside. Straightening up, Steve shoves the boy away to get a little bit of space to breathe. The crowd cheers and Steve wishes he could jump the fence and get up close and personal with a couple of those douche-bags, see if they'd like death so much on their husband or friends.

It isn't clear if the kid heard Slim at all, but he takes one look at Steve's face and there's panic in his eyes now. Steve waits for him to come close.

"I'm sorry," Steve says and the kid's eyes widen. "This won't hurt, much."

Two seconds is all it takes to pull him close and snap his neck like a twig. Everything dulls after that, as if Steve hit a switch. The yelling is a muffled roar and he knows Slim is talking as he locks his cuffs, but Steve doesn't bother listening. He walks back out, stops for the hood, and he's almost out of his body, cataloging what is going on by rote. Outside there is a torrential downpour and the gun in his back urges him to hurry up. Steve almost slips in the mud more than once and the rain feels cool on his skin, which distantly makes him wonder what happened to his shirt.

Steve doesn't know if he can face Danny, almost asks to be put in one of the empty cages, but then Danny would bitch and demand an explanation Steve never wants to give. As soon as he's back in the cage and uncuffed, Danny is all over him.

"Shit," he breathes, fingers light on the bruises that are starting to form.

Steve takes the water bottle in the corner, takes a sip and wonders if he should feel sick right now. A normal person would probably puke in self-disgust. But no, he feels nothing, and frankly nothing is good right now. Maybe he'll be able to sleep.

"Did you hear anything I said? Steve!"

It seems Danny was talking, he'd zoned out. Steve answers mostly to get him off his back. "I'm fine."

Danny throws his hands in the air at that and Steve checks the arc of it, wonders if it can be put in an equation. There is surely a whole mathematical field that could be born of studying Danny.

"He's fine, he says!" Danny rants. "See, I don't buy that for one fucking second, okay? So stop lying and tell me what's going on."

"Everything is going to be okay." Even to his own ears it sounds flat and unconvincing. He sits down, closes his eyes and hopes for a moment that Danny is going to let this go. Wishful thinking, of course.

"Newsflash, things are not okay! They are so not okay right now, Steve! And I can't help if I don't know exactly what is going on, do you realize that? It kills me to see you revert to RoboSteve."

That, at last, makes Steve react and he opens his eyes to look at Danny, confused. "RoboSteve?"

"Yes, RoboSteve, the lean mean machine. I've worked hard all these months to loosen you up, help you interact more normally with the human race... You don't want to undo that, do you?"

Danny's holding his hands in supplication, and he's honestly distressed, which wakes a pang in Steve's chest that he squashes immediately.

"I'm just tired," Steve says, stretching his legs. "Don't worry."

Which is like asking Danny to please stop breathing, Steve is conscious of the difficulty. He's therefore not surprised when Danny insists, sitting cross-legged by his side, then taking hold of Steve's face to assure eye contact.

"What do you do out there, Steve?"

He'd push Danny away, but Steve finds himself unable to break the gaze. Danny's eyes are so very blue, clear. Not mucky like his.

"They generally take me to see Kigin, though not tonight, then to the octagon. I fight, I win, and I come straight back here."

Danny scrutinizes his face for a minute but shakes his head.

"You're lying."

"Am not," Steve says. It's the cold hard facts.

"Lying by omission, then. Spill, McGarrett. I can be patient when I want, and I'll get to the bottom of this."

So much intensity all the time... it gets a bit much. If he knows everything, Danny will back off and leave Steve with his welcome numbness.

"I'm not lying. I kill the other guy, I live another day. As simple as that. No sweat."

Danny blinks when the words register and he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times like a fish, eyes going round. That's it, it will work, and Steve waits for the surprise to morph into horror, into disgust. When it comes it looks more like anger, and yes, Steve's earned that, too. Danny gets up, goes to the front of the cage and tries to shake the bars.

"You bunch of sick fucks!" he yells. "I hope your stupid cars go over big cliffs, do you hear that?"

"It's raining," Steve supplies.

Danny turns to him and he's beet red, enraged. Not at him, Steve notes.

"What?"

"They can't hear you, because it's raining," he points out reasonably.

There's another shift in Danny's mood at that, anger quickly dropped for pity, or it looks like it. Normally it would sting, but not so much right now. Danny comes and crouches next to him.

"Jesus, Steve..." he says softly, cupping Steve's cheek. "I'm so sorry."

He looks like his heart is breaking and Steve doesn't want that.

"You've done nothing wrong."

"You did nothing wrong either," Danny counters, which is false.

"I killed them."

Danny huffs. "Did you want to? Was it fun?"

"Of course not."

"It was either that or they'd kill you?" Danny shouldn't try to justify it, but it's true.

"Yeah."

"Is that all? Because somehow, I think there's something missing here." Danny always sees too much.

Steve manages to look away, then, focuses on a bar. "Then they'd hurt you."

"Fuck!" Danny curses, letting go of Steve's face to put a hand on his shoulder. "That bastard. I can't wait to wring his skinny neck."

Steve flashes back to the kid, how easy it was to take the light out of his eyes. Steve hadn't looked back but most probably it had been as if he was sleeping; his casket could be open if the family wished for it. The thought makes him wonder if they gave the bodies back or if they conveniently disappeared. Steve hoped they did set the corpses to be found, it would help the families to get closure.

"Shit. Hey, hey, Steve! Don't you dare leave me here all alone, do you hear me?"

Danny's strange sometimes.

"I'm right here, Danno."

Instead of arguing further, Danny makes a choked sound and pulls him close, strong arms closing around Steve's shoulder, one hand on his neck.

"Oh, baby, god, I'm so sorry."

There's no harm in leaning into him, to close his arms around Danny too and to put his face in his neck, just for a moment. Danny's rubbing his back, whispering non-stop.

"I wish I knew what to do right now. Maybe you shutting down is for the best... Or, or I should help you snap out of it, but how the hell should I know? You put me in the most impossible situations, Steven J. McGarrett, as usual. But you and me, we're in this together, hear that? You don't have to protect me."

Of course Steve has to protect him, but right now Danny's solid, next to him, hot and real in his arms and it's like Steve thaws at his contact. He should pull back, keep the numbness but finds it impossible, so he holds even tighter.

"Dannydannydannydanny..." he murmurs, like a mantra.

"Shhhh, shhhhh," Danny soothes, rocking a little as if Steve is a frightened child and it's the tenderness in the gesture that makes the ice cover start to crack, the whole panel of it falling off.

"It was a kid, Danny, that last one," Steve confesses, though he's sorry to put that burden on Danny, too, who doesn't deserve it. "Just a boy who wanted some money."

"Fuck. I'm so sorry, that's not fair. Life's not fair." Danny holds him tighter.

"The one before, I scrambled his brain by hitting his nose... and, and the first I choked to death. It was easy, Danny, so easy."

Letting the words out hurts, and it leaves him with a gap inside. Steve now feels raw and skinned alive, the blessed numbness gone.

"Don't say that, shhh. You're a good person, Steve. You're the best. I hate that Kigin forced you to do that. He's the real killer, you did what you could. Don't let him and what he asks mess with you."

Steve wants to believe that so much, wants Danny to be sure for him, too. Now that he's feeling again, he also wants it to be something else than hurt, at least for a little bit. His usual defenses are shot and Steve can't resist: Danny's neck is right there against his face so it's easy to go with it and kiss him. Doing it just once is torture and Steve mostly expects Danny to shush him and pretend nothing happened, but no, he's pressing his own lips in a chaste kiss near Steve's ear.

"It's okay, I've got you," Danny says, palming the back of Steve's neck and squeezing a little.

He's offering comfort, his presence, but Steve wants so much more. He's dreamed of kissing Danny for so long, but never dared because it could be the end of everything and the risk was unacceptable. This is fucked up, but right now Steve knows that if Danny's going to turn him down, it will be gently and it won't be held against him. So Steve dares to kiss Danny's neck again, over his pulse point, and he feels it quicken against his lips. The temptation to sneak a hand under Danny's t-shirt is too strong, so Steve does it until he can touch skin that is as hot and soft as he's always imagined.

"Steve..." Danny's tone is unsure but not chastising, and he's not pulling away either so Steve drops tiny kisses going up Danny's neck, then on the underside of his jaw.

"Please," Steve whispers against the prickly three day stubble.

Danny swallows hard and when he cups Steve's jaw, there's a moment where he's terrified that Danny's going to push him away. But he only does so to tilt Steve's head a bit and then he's kissing him on the mouth, firm and sure. Steve whimpers, sure his heart won't resist long the way it's beating wildly in his rib cage, and he opens up at the brush of Danny's tongue on his lower lip. Their kisses become the center of Steve's universe, the only thing he wants to be thinking about, ignoring everything else forever, amen. Somehow he's now straddling Danny's thighs while he sits against the wall, both hands under his t-shirt, and if he could crawl up in Danny and lose himself in him, he'd do it. Danny's hands are roaming all over him, one sliding up his thighs then gripping his waist, the other one climbing up his spine and pulling Steve closer.

"Tell me what I can do," Danny demands. "What do you need?"

"Just be you," Steve says, diving for more kisses.

He knows he's kissing as if he's desperate - he is - as if he's drowning, but Steve can't help it, Danny's the only lifesaver in sight. He keens when Danny starts unfastening his cargo pants, and hurries to do the same, shoving his hand down Danny's boxers just as Danny makes a fist around Steve's dick. It's messy and fast, jolts of pleasure as they're reduced to panting into each other's mouth while jacking off.

Danny's eyes are closed, head thrown back against the wall, and Steve doesn't want this to ever end but he's just a couple of strokes away from coming, it's inevitable. Danny's eyes suddenly open and they're almost black, with only a tiny ring of blue all around, and that's what tips Steve over the edge: he comes with Danny's name on his lips, the world whiting out in a bolt of pleasure so strong it leaves him weak as a kitten afterward. He slumps forward and Danny catches him, then closes a hand over Steve's who somehow forgot he was in the middle of giving a hand job, too.

"Just, god, I..." Danny stutters and Steve manages to resume his strokes; it only takes a couple and Danny's groaning, going tense all over as he comes over Steve's hand.

They stay put for a couple of minutes, Steve's head on Danny's shoulder as he tries to get his heartbeat and his breathing under control. Danny has started caressing his back again in a steady rhythm, and somehow it's soothing enough to make Steve drowsy and maybe, just maybe he could sleep.

"Come on, lie down now," Danny nudges, manhandling him gently. Steve curls on the floor, his head on Danny's lap and an arm thrown across his legs since he's not ready to cut all contact yet. Strong fingers card in his hair, just like when he woke up days ago, and he takes a shaky breath, tries to focus on that alone.

The storm has gotten worse outside, rain pelting against the metal roof of the shed and making it awfully noisy in what sounds like a whooping thunderstorm. Without protest, Steve lets himself get pulled under the water until all goes black.

****  
Slim puts Steve back in the cage and for the hundredth time today Steve wonders what happens now.

Waking up still pressed to Danny had been a bit awkward, though neither had brought up what had happened the night before. Steve had done his best to play along with Danny who was asking increasingly cracky questions, from toys of his childhood to trying to find out what he'd done with the SEALs. In return, Steve tried to deconstruct the supposed paradise that was the East coast in general or to get Danny going about food. That was always good for a few minutes of entertainment, even though it was kind of masochistic with the crap they were fed. He'd made the error to bring up Grace just once and the face Danny had pulled at it had made Steve feel like a complete tool, so much he'd been glad Bob chose that instant to ask for belly rubs.

Eventually the night had come, and with it another trip to see Kigin. This time Steve had been careful to stay at what looked like parade rest because of the cuffs and gave his best thousand yard stare through the threats and innuendos Kigin had thrown at him. He'd even managed not to flinch when he'd been felt up a little. Frustrated at his lack of reaction, Kigin had sent him down to fight some kind of martial arts expert who'd almost gotten the drop on him. Steve had been the one to walk out, though, and here he was again, with no idea what to expect.

Danny walks right up to him and starts a meticulous inspection of any and all new bruises or cuts on his body. He grabs his arm, makes Steve turn, hand brushing here and there, muttering under his breath and Steve catches the tail of it. "Okay, that's not so bad. I knew you'd be back."

"I told you I would," Steve says.

"Oh, I have much faith in you, babe, but you've got to understand I worry none the same. Even more, now that I know..." Danny trails off.

Of course he does, that's how Danny is wired.

"I'm sorry." He never wanted to give Danny grief, not like that.

Danny meets his eyes, frowning.

"You're sorry? Please. How are you feeling?"

Not so good, but it's not like Steve can say that, so he shrugs. "I'll be okay," is the only concession he makes. He's pretty sure he could be, too, if he'd get out of this place sooner rather than later.

"Yeah," Danny says, but he looks thoroughly unconvinced, or no, that's not it, he seems sad that it's not a certainty. "I wish I could do something. Anything."

"You do," Steve says, and he can't resist stepping closer and without second guessing himself - or he'd never dare - he pulls Danny into a tight hug. "You're here."

He'd be even more fucked up by himself, would probably have tried something desperate by now and gotten himself shot. It's increasingly frustrating to see how all of the guards were trained to offer little to no opportunities. Danny has a little chuckle, but he's returning the hug as good as he's getting and Steve feels justified to tuck his face against Danny's neck again - it's not the best idea he's had today, since it makes him want to chance a kiss there again. The temptation is like an ache in his chest, makes it harder to breathe.

"Oh, I'm here alright. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I wouldn't be anywhere else right now." A pause. "You get what I mean. Anywhere else would be fabulous, of course, but not if you're stuck here."

Steve nods and he's gathering all of his willpower to let go and step back when there's the press of a kiss on his neck. It's impossible for him to resist then and he does the same, heart racing, wondering if that's where the comfort ends tonight. But no, Danny takes hold of his head with two hands and brings him in for a deep kiss, one that sets Steve's whole body on fire. He pushes at Danny until his back is to the wall, trapping him there with his own body and a thigh between his legs. His hands can't stop roaming over Danny's clothes, trying to get under and undo buttons at the same time, which doesn’t give the results he's hoping for.

"Fuck, Danny, God," he rasps, biting his lips in hope to keep in the pathetic sounds of need that are threatening to come out.

"Wait, I've got this, one second," Danny says, fingers nimbly opening his own shirt and both their pants.

He doesn't hesitate and Steve can't stop the whimper that escapes as his cock is pulled free. "Yeah, yeah, please."

It won't take much, that's for sure, just a hand on his dick and Danny's got him a couple of strokes from coming. But the blessed touch disappears suddenly and Steve can't stand the loss and burrows closer.

"Don't stop," he says, voice shot to hell.

"Oh, I'm definitely not stopping." Danny's coherency would smart a little bit if he wasn't panting harshly as he speaks. He's taking hold of Steve's cock again but there's more and as Steve looks down he almost comes at the sight of both their dicks in Danny's grasp. From then on it's a race to the finish, with grinding and wet kisses. Through the haze Steve's surprised when Danny's the first to come, though he follows right after with a soft cry, clutching Danny's shoulder and blocking his knees to stay upright.

"Okay, okay... I need a minute here, Jesus," Danny mutters, still breathless and Steve has to kiss him again, and again once more.

It's a concerted effort and slightly uncoordinated, but they end up lying on the floor tangled together. Steve lays his head on Danny's chest and listens to the strong thumping of his big huge heart, grateful for this freely given comfort. He'll take what he can have, in any form, for as long as he can.

***

Steve wipes the blood from his left eye and curses under his breath. Fucking cuts to the head, they always piss blood and he can't believe a split eyebrow might be his downfall. The ugly motherfucker who is his opponent tonight is smirking, knows Steve's going to be distracted by it. The crowd has gotten louder at the sight of blood, and once again Steve likens them to sharks. He's pretty sure that there are more people in attendance tonight, the noise sure is crazy. Steve can only hope that one of those douche will talk a little too much back in the real world and that the word will get out that Kigin has men fighting to the death.

"I'd heard you were tough," the guy shouts, staying just out of reach.

Steve snorts and cracks his neck. He's tired of this; he wants to go back to the cage and Danny.

"Come here and find out," he yells back. If he can get a good hold of him...

The thing is that they've been fighting for a good half hour, way longer than Steve's used to. Both landed pretty heavy blows, but nothing decisive and the other guy has been smart up until now, never letting Steve get into his defenses properly. It's a careful fight between well matched fighters and it could go on for a while still. There's some booing going on after another five minutes, and Slim's heckling them along, so they give a better show Steve supposes.

He's so focused on his adversary that Steve doesn't react immediately when he sees something move in his peripheral vision, on his bad eye's side that's starting to shut closed with the swelling. But the other guy is diving to the floor, and all comes clear when he steps back up with an empty beer bottle and a demented grin. Shit. Steve barely has time to leap back before the bottle is broken just so - obviously the guy has experience in bar fights - and then thrust at his side. The pain is sharp but Steve manages to twist so he doesn't get gutted, the bottle bumping against his ribs. Knives or other close combat weapons are dangerous but they force the other guy close: Steve manages to twist the arm with the bottle up and using the forward momentum of his attacker he pulls the man to him and knees him in the gut at the same time. A little more twist and the man's crying out, his shoulder popping out but Steve can't let him go, not injured as he is, so he does what he has to do and slits the man's throat with the bottle.

It isn't a clean cut, but it's enough, that much is clear by the way the guy, eyes round as saucers, has both hands on his neck, trying to keep in the blood that's spraying like in B movies. Steve turns around immediately, he doesn't need to see this, and only then does he notice how the spectators have gone completely nuts, hollering and whistling as if what just happened is the best thing ever. It makes him so angry that Steve wishes he could climb the mesh, cut a couple more people and he hurls the broken bottle out, hoping to catch someone.

"You're all sick freaks, you motherfuckers!" he bellows as he goes to his door.

As Slim cuffs him, Steve curses at himself: he should have kept the bottle, tried to do a little damage. Slim must sense he's out of control because even before opening the door he's talking.

"Easy now, Dog. We've got guns on you, and we've got Bill with a gun on your boyfriend in the cages. You do one wrong move and we put you down, understood?"

It throws a bucket of ice on Steve, who's still high with adrenaline and anger but does all he can to rein in his temper. He can't endanger Danny; especially not now that Slim's called him his boyfriend. They must know, maybe they have cameras though he hasn't seen any, and it makes Steve half crazy to think that the sleaze balls maybe watched them. He's stumbling towards the exit, turns right for the door by habit but he's yanked the other way.

"Just a minute, we've got to inspect the goods," Slim says before pushing him into a small room he's never seen.

The young guy who takes care of the dogs is there, and he's got a couple of towels and water.

"If you know what's good for you, don't move," Slim says.

"And why the fuck do you care?" Steve spits out, though he lets the boy dab at his side with a wet towel. He had almost forgotten the wound, but now that it's brought back to his attention it hurts like a bitch. The cut is uneven, in pattern and in depth, but it bleeds quite a lot.

"You're bringing in good money," Slim says.

"He needs a doctor," the kid Danny nicknamed Johnny says, softly, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard him talk. "Stitches."

No shit. A gash like that, he'd need at least 35 of them, more to the muscle below.

"We don't have a doctor, so you do it," Slim says and Johnny goes a little pale.

"I-I can't..."

Slim shrugs.

"You do it for the dogs."

Since bad stitches in this case would be better than none at all, if he doesn't want to bleed out, Steve speaks up.

"Yes, come on. I won't move, and I'll remember you helped when the time comes."

It makes Slim laugh while Johnny gets a suture kit with crude black string.

"Still think you're getting out of this?"

Steve glares at him.

"Oh, believe me, we will. And I won't forget _you_."

Johnny's still dabbing at Steve's side, and he gets to work with surprisingly neat little stitches. Not enough of them and mostly superficial but it should hold him together. Getting stitches with nothing to numb the pain hurts but he does his best not to wince, and keeps looking at Slim instead, imagining the many ways he'd kick his ass if Slim didn't have that fucking gun. His hatred must show because Slim, who'd been smirking at first, starts frowning and gets fidgety.

"Are you done?" he asks Johnny when he gets towards the end of the gash.

"Almost." Johnny cuts the string, and then cleans the area once more. He splashes some iodine on top, which stings, and then puts a crude dressing and tape. Not the best first aid ever, but decent and Steve nods his thanks when Johnny risks a look up.

"Okay, that's it, come on," Slim says.

The hood is back as he gets out and they bring him straight back to the shed with the kennel. They are about five steps from getting there when Steve can already hear Danny yelling.

"... is taking so long? What happened? Use that fucking radio, Bill, get me some answers!"

"Shut up!" Bill yells back.

"No, I won't shut up! Get me Kigin!"

The yelling stops as soon as Slim or his buddy opens the door and Steve steps in. He doesn't have to see Danny to feel the relief, it's clear enough in his voice.

"Jesus, there you are!"

"Get in position, cop," Slim says and soon enough Steve is uncuffed and the hood is off. Even if Johnny mopped a bit of the blood off, Steve knows he must look like shit. His cargo pants, already filthy, are stained on the right side almost to his knee and his eye is almost completely shut now. Danny's eyes are wide as he takes it all in, fingers soft on his brow and then on the dressing.

"What the fuck happened? I heard the fight end, but you didn't come back and..." Danny's voice cracks and Steve puts a hand on his neck, bows so their foreheads touch.

"I won, it's okay. They patched me up a little, that's what took time. I'm sorry you thought..."

Danny gathers him close in a hug so gentle Steve's heart breaks a little.

"Thank god you're okay," he whispers. "I was going out of my mind. Don't you dare do that again!"

"I'll try," Steve says as he holds on, but already he's dreading tomorrow night, wonders if that's going to be it.

Hurt like he is, a decent fighter will be enough to do him in.

***

The sun is coming down and Steve grows agitated, pacing in the cage. His side is hurting and he doesn't need to lift the dressing to know the wound is getting infected. He's not feeling so great, and he knows he has a fever. He's going to do his best, but he's afraid it won't be enough. Danny's awfully quiet and Bob senses something is wrong, too, staying as close as he can to Danny who pets him through the bars absentmindedly.

"Would you sit down?" Danny snaps after a while. It startles Steve and he immediately goes to sit next to him. He doesn't want to fight, not if this is the end.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, bumping shoulders.

Danny sighs, passes a hand on his face. "No, no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't... I'm worried, that's all, and it comes out all wrong."

"I know. But I've got this."

"I don't know if you realize this, Steve, but you're hurt bad. If you go fight, you might get killed and that is unacceptable." Danny's eyes are full of emotion and Steve vows again that he'll do everything he can to shield him, to keep him safe.

"I know. But there's something else I can do for Kigin, it's going to be okay." Steve hates the thought of Kigin even touching him, but it's worth it.

Danny frowns, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"I was given the choice to fight or something else." Steve suddenly feels an overwhelming wave of guilt: he should have let Kigin fuck him and not kill those poor bastards, what was he even thinking?

"What something else?" Danny is shaking him, now, and there's no way to hide anything from him when he gets like that.

"Sex," Steve spits out. "Shit, I should... all those guys could have lived if..."

Steve's stomach is rolling and he's pretty sure that he's going to be sick. He tries to crawl to the bars of the other cage, to at least make the mess over there but Danny's reeling him back in and framing his face. Steve swallows convulsively, trying to keep it in.

"Stop, stop this right now Steven! Look at me!"

Powerless to resist, Steve meets Danny's eyes. He shouldn't look so understanding.

"If you'd done that, would there have been fights anyway?"

Blinking, Steve lets the question sink in.

"Pretty sure, yes." The crowd comes for a fight; Kigin must have had other fighters if Steve refused.

"So those guys, or other guys, would have died anyway," Danny says.

The nausea is receding, and isn't that fucked up? Because it doesn't make it acceptable.

"But I wouldn't have killed them," Steve argues.

"And believe me, I'm sorry you had to. But apart from you, was someone else forced into the fights?" Danny is relentless, won't let him crumble under the guilt.

"I don't think so," Steve admits. The other fighters weren't chained, they had no armed escort, and most even welcomed the crowd's cheering.

"They knew what they were doing. They were ready to kill for money, Steve. Think of that."

He finally lets Steve's face go, settles back against the wall.

"I'm going tonight," Danny says, decisive.

Steve blinks rapidly, wondering if he heard right. "What?"

"You think I'm going to let Kigin rape you? No fucking way. I'm going."

Moving a bit fast for his side, which makes the stitches pull painfully, Steve straddles Danny's thighs, grips his shoulders and he wants to shake him.

"No! No. He's going to offer you the same, Danny, you won't talk him out of it!" Kigin already said he'd want to fuck Danny and Steve is freaking out.

Danny is scowling at him. "Yeah, and? You think I can't fight, McGarrett? Fuck you!"

"Danno..." Steve pleads but he's being pushed away.

"Don't Danno me," Danny says, getting up. "I'm going, and that's final. Have a little faith in me, for god's sake."

"It's not that!"

Danny's a great fighter, strong and tough, but every instinct in Steve wants to spare him that. There's no changing Danny's mind when he gets that mulish look, though, and if Steve's honest with himself he must admit that he's got way more chances to survive than Steve does tonight. So he gets to his feet and goes to Danny who's gripping the door with white knuckles and hugs him from behind.

"Promise me you'll be careful, okay? Please," he whispers near Danny's ear, kisses him there too for good measure.

"Of course, I promise."

Danny turns in his arms and they're kissing, a little desperate and Steve tries to put all he feels into it, all the need and love and worry. They break apart when the shed door opens and reluctantly Steve goes to the back wall while Danny stays by the door, waiting to be cuffed.

"Well well, look at that!" Slim says. "Shorty's time, huh? That's going to be interesting."

"Shut the fuck up, Slim," Danny growls. Steve wonders if he should risk a move now, as they take Danny out of the cage, but Bill is a couple of steps too far with his gun trained on them and the instant passes, the door closed and locked again.

There's nothing else for Steve to do now but to wait and pray that Danny makes it back. He goes to sit in a back corner of the cage and Bob comes to curl by Steve's side, on the other side of the bars. The dog generally goes to Danny, but it must sense Steve's worry and he pushes his nose between the bars, nudges at Steve's leg and whines a little.

"Don't worry," Steve tells him, rubbing his good ear. "Danny's going to be okay."

He better be okay, because if he's not, if he gets killed tonight in the octagon, Steve will welcome the promised bullet that comes with it tomorrow. He can't do this on his own, would not even want to try. The music has started where the ring is, and when Steve can hear the dull roar of the people there he knows the fight started. Not knowing how it's going is making Steve feel sick, his imagination running away from him and presenting bad scenario after bad scenario. Steve's stomach is twisted in knots and when a guard brings water and food Steve doesn't even move from where he's huddled, his heart beating double time.

He wonders if that's what Danny felt like all of those nights when Steve was the one whisked away; it's worse than fighting, Steve decides when the sound reaches a crescendo and it's obvious that the fight ended. He can only hope that Danny won and he counts the seconds before he comes back, straining to hear steps outside. Steve knows exactly the distance, the routine, and Danny should be back in less than three minutes. Unless he got hurt, unless he needed stitches too and Steve realizes how agonizing the night before must have been for Danny when it took over 20 minutes before he made it back.

Finally the door opens and Steve feels weak with relief when Danny walks in on his own two feet, almost strutting the cocky son of a bitch, and Steve can't stop smiling. Thank fucking god. Even Bob is barking happily. Slim scoffs when he meets Steve's eyes.

"Turn around, Dog, you know the drill. Your boy surprised me, I must admit. I should be pissed he made me lose my bet."

"Serves you right, asshole," Danny says. "You just wait until I kick _your_ ass."

Slim laughs as he goes through the routine of putting Danny back in the cage with Steve.

"Promises, promises. G'night, boys!"

As soon as Slim and his friends are out, Steve is by Danny, frowning at the blood on his once white t-shirt.

"Are you ok? Tell me you're ok!" Steve finds himself making a meticulous inspection of Danny, wanting to make sure of it. It doesn't escape him that he's falling into Danny's usual routine.

"I'm fine," Danny says softly. "Blood isn't mine, I busted his nose. The guy didn't take me seriously, and that didn't turn out so well for him."

Fuck, Danny had to kill tonight and Steve never wanted that to happen. He never wants it to happen again. He'll be well enough to go fight tomorrow. "I'm so sorry."

Danny reaches for his shoulder, shakes him a little. "Didn't I tell you to stop apologizing for this? I did what I had to do, and yes it sucked, but it's definitely not your fault. You hear me?"

"Yes." Steve wants to take their minds off this, all of it. He worried that he wouldn't see Danny again and that threw him off his game, he needs to reassure himself that he hasn't lost him. He feels a wave of need so strong that Steve thinks he's going to choke on it, so he does the only thing he can and pulls Danny into a kiss that turns deep and hard real fast.

Danny gives back as good as he gets, hands fisted in Steve's hair. Steve walks him backward to the wall and pins him there for a little bit, but he has a flash and once in his head he can't let go of the idea. Steve slows their kiss and whispers into Danny's mouth. "I want to blow you."

"Jesus fuck," Danny pants. "You can't stay stuff like that!"

Steve grins, because Danny's pushing on his leg and yeah, he doesn't seem opposed to the idea at all. They've only given each other handjobs until now but Steve wants more, he doesn't want to die before he feels Danny's cock hitting the back of his throat. He goes to his knees and starts undoing Danny's slacks, impatient when his fingers fumble. There's no teasing when he gets to Danny's dick, he's too far gone for that, he only breathes the intoxicating smell of him in and he's swallowing Danny's cock down as far as he can.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Danny is chanting above and Steve smirks looking up, as he starts bobbing his head and sucking. "This shouldn't be so hot."

Danny's fingering his busted eyebrow and Steve falters for a second, realizing he surely doesn't look his best but the hunger in Danny's expression reassures him and he doubles his efforts. The taste, the feel of Danny filling his mouth, it's enough to get him achingly hard so Steve thrusts a hand down his own pants, fists his cock. The blowjob might be one of the worst he's ever given, sloppy and wet and with barely any technique but it doesn't seem to bother Danny who's tugging at his hair, warning him that he's about to come. Steve stays put, sucking harder, wants Danny to come down his throat and he manages to coordinate enough to swallow around him. That's it, Danny starts coming with a shout and Steve only has to pull once more on his own dick that he's following suit, shuddering through his release.

As soon as Steve lets Danny's cock slip from his mouth Danny's sliding down the wall, reeling Steve in for a kiss, softer than before now that the edge has been taken off. Danny caresses his back in long strokes when they finally make it horizontal, plants little kisses all over his face.

"I'm not sure I want to know how you got so good at sucking cock, McGarrett," he teases after a while.

Steve chuckles.

"Believe me, I can do a whole lot better than that," Steve says, stretching and then wrapping a leg and an arm around Danny who laughs out loud.

"Modest much?" he asks, then sobers. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

As good as he can be, anyway. Steve tightens his hold and tries to forget the rest.

***

Steve's awakened from a fitful sleep by Bob, who's growling deep his throat. He feels sluggish and hot, and the cut in his side hurts more now. It doesn't bode well at all but Steve tries to focus on what's going on outside. He can hear fast footsteps and suddenly the whole kennel erupts, all dogs barking like that first day. Danny starts awake and Steve sits up and grips his arm.

"Something's going on," he whispers.

Bob's all puffed up, barking angrily and that's when the shed's door opens, a dark shadow slipping in. A flashlight beam cuts the darkness and stops on them, and Steve's heart is hammering.

"Commander?" a voice whispers and fuck, it's rescue time, that must be it. Steve fumbles to his feet and he's gripping the bars now.

"Yes, Commander McGarrett and Danny Williams, Five-0. Get this fucking door opened."

The young officer dressed in SWAT gear - Steve has never seen him before - jogs to them and he's talking into his radio. "I've found them, small shack three, South West of the compound," the flashlight beam does a rapid up and down. "Have EMT ready." And then to Steve, "Won't be long Commander, hang on."

He shakes the lock but they've done that, they know it won't open just like that. The shed's door opens again and the young cop swirls around, puts his flashlight beam right in the face of the newcomer. It's Johnny, both hands in the air.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" he pleads. "I've got the key!"

"Finally!" Danny says. "Come on, boy, bring it here."

In a matter of minutes the door is unlocked and they're ushered out and down a dirt road in the opposite direction of the arena. Steve would ask for a gun but he can barely stand up, head woozy and he has to lean on Danny to manage to walk without face planting.

"C'mon, c'mon Steve. I'm sure you'd love to bring the McGarrett wrath down on Kigin's slimy ass, but we've gotta get you to a hospital."

There's an ambulance around a bend in the road, all lights off and by now there's shooting and yelling in the compound. Steve only hopes Slim and Kigin are still on the premises, and he daydreams that Kono gives them a roundhouse kick each for him. He hears Danny talking with the EMT and there's the pinch of a shot; it takes a few seconds for the pain to subside, making everything fuzzy. Morphine, most likely.

"We've got you, Steve. You can rest now," Danny's saying with a hand on his forehead and Steve turns into the touch.

Someone should check Danny out, too, make sure he's okay. He tries to say as much but it's too hard, his eyes are closing against his will. Everything goes black.

***

"Are you ready to go?"

Steve finishes buttoning his shirt and he smiles up at Chin who's leaning in the door frame.

"You bet."

He's been ready to go for at least a day, but the doctors insisted on having him on IV antibiotics and re-hydration fluids. The gash in his side is getting better and the fever is finally gone; he'd been out of it for a bit. He had moments of clarity, aware that Danny and the rest of the team had been by his bedside, but he'd only gotten better roughly 24 hours ago. It's a testament to how much he's a bad patient that the doctors agreed to let him go already.

"Do you have the scripts for your meds?"

"Yeah," Steve says, tapping his shirt pocket. "Just signed the papers, too, I'm a free man."

A shadow dims Chin's smile for a second and Steve pretends not to notice. He didn't mean it as a jab; he knows Chin and Kono think they didn't find them early enough even though they did their best.

"After you, then," Chin says, gesturing to the door.

The doctors told Steve that Danny was fine and had gotten out the morning after their admittance. Steve hasn't seen him since he awoke fever free; Kono said something about Rachel paying for a weekend with Grace at the Kahala, so that must be why. What's for sure is that Steve can't wait to be at his house to try to get his balance back. The Governor gave Danny and him a week off to get better, on top of orders to see a shrink which has Steve cringing already. He doesn't want to talk about what happened in Kigin's compound, and he should have told everything to HPD but he's kept his debriefs pretty vague. He'll have to face the music eventually and the murder charges that go with it, but he's not ready yet and he has to speak to Danny first. They can't risk him going to prison, not with Grace.

***

It's been over a week total that Steve hasn't had decent food, with the cages and the hospital, but instead of feeling ravenous, the smell of the Pad Thai is too much, it makes him nauseous. He eats a bit of rice to cushion his stomach for the antibiotics and painkillers (and in the hope of making Chin look less worried), but that's it.

"Thanks for driving me home," Steve tells him, forcing a smile. "I'll hit the shower and crash, I'm good."

"No problem. I'll clean up," Chin says.

Steve doesn't wait, even though he knows he's being kind of rude, and climbs upstairs. The hot water of the shower is a blessing and Steve stands under it for long minutes. He doesn't envy whoever had to clean him up at the hospital and winces at the thought that he was covered with grime, sweat, blood and spunk. Kono had brought him new clothes to get out of the hospital and the pants he'd still had on when admitted must have been burned. When Steve starts scrubbing with soap, he can't shake the feeling that it's not enough, that all of it still clings to him.

He only drags himself out when the water turns too cold and his teeth start to chatter, pats dry and takes the time to change his dressing with the fully stocked first aid kit that's been left on the counter. Steve wipes the steam off the mirror and looks at his reflection: haggard, pink only because of the scalding hot water before, a bad black eye and various bruises. Not his best ever. But he's alive and free, that's what is important, so he shuffles to the bedroom and climbs between the sheets. Once lying down he hates that his own bedroom feels so alien, too white, the bed too soft. His eyes fall on the window and he thinks he should have closed the blinds to cut the afternoon sun; getting up now would be too much of a hassle, the pain meds starting to kick in and making his limbs heavy. He has to make an effort not to think about the past week, to stop it all from spinning endlessly in his head, but the exhaustion gets the better of him and he manages to drift to sleep.

***

The big black dog is snarling, sharp teeth white and red, blood dripping from its jaw and Steve knows he's not going to be able to fend it off much longer. Not when there are more of them coming any minute, he can hear them close, almost breathing down his neck. Something, _someone_ is missing, and it's very important that Steve remember what or who but he can't and he starts to panic. The bars and floor are slick with blood, and he has no purchase and nothing of any use to defend himself. Suddenly there's another dog, a fair one, paw torn off and if no one helps, it might bleed to death. That must not happen, Steve's convinced of it deep down to the marrow of his bone. They're back to back, him and the dog, and thousands of red eyes are looking on and the demons are yelling for blood, yelling for death. A big grey dog - no, no it's a wolf, huge - it lunges for the yellow dog and Steve's not fast enough, not strong enough and he yells as the fair dog's throat is ripped open...

"Steve! Steve!"

Steve wakes with a start, sitting straight up in bed, covered with sweat and with the horror still present enough to make him pant and look for something to lash out with.

"Whoa, it's okay, you had a nightmare."

Chin, that's Chin who's hovering near the bed but is smart enough not to try and touch him right now; slowly Steve starts to shake the dream off. He lies back down and throws his elbow over his face, hiding and trying to get his composure back. Steve can still see red eyes burned like pinpoints against his eyelids and he has an involuntary shudder.

"Okay, yes, I'm fine," Steve lies.

Worry still churns in his belly, though, and he can't really shake it. He appreciates that Chin stayed to make sure he was okay but he hates looking this vulnerable; Steve wishes Chin would just go and leave him alone.

"Wait a sec," Chin's saying and then a phone is thrust at him. "There."

"What?" Steve is honestly confused but puts the phone to his ear by habit.

"Hey! Chin Ho, what can I do for you?"

It's Danny's voice and the relief of hearing him sounding perfectly okay is so strong that Steve is left speechless, punched in the gut.

"Chin?" Danny sounds worried now, and Steve manages to croak.

"Hey."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

Steve curls on his side, phone clutched to his ear and he is vaguely aware that Chin is leaving the room.

"I heard that they let you out? That's good, real good. Now you rest and you do not over do it, okay?"

That Danny is immediately in mother hen mode makes Steve smile a little.

"Yes, mom." He won't say that he's weak as a kitten and wouldn't be able to do much anyway.

"Chin has appointed himself as your bodyguard slash nurse, huh?" Danny teases.

"Seems like it." Slowly Steve is shaking the last remains of dread the nightmare left him with.

"Well good luck getting rid of him. I wasn't a tenth as bad as you were and I barely managed to dodge Kono. She just won't stop checking on me and following me around."

Steve smiles for real this time, able to see it all. He loves his team so fucking much.

"They mean well," Steve argues.

"Of course, they're the best." There's a pause and Steve can see Danny in his mind chewing his lip before he asks, voice a little lower. "How are you, babe?"

"I'm fine." _Now,_ he thinks, _that I know you are too_.

"You're fi..." it's like Danny strangles himself on the word, and when he starts talking again he sounds furious. "Fuck you and your many issues, McGarrett. Call me back when you're not lying to my face."

The line goes silent and Steve realizes Danny hung up. He blinks, shocked, and he can't dial back fast enough. His hands are shaking and he cannot stand the idea of Danny mad at him, not even for one second. There's a moment where Steve worries that the call will go to voice mail - _c'mon, c'mon, c'mon please_ \- but after a couple of rings Danny answers with a heavy sigh.

"Danny..." Steve whispers, breath sticking in his throat and he doesn't know how to make him understand.

"I admit, that was harsh, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, I really am. I should know by now that you are pathologically unable to admit you are anything but _'fine'_ ," Steve feels the air quotes clear as day, "even when you're so obviously not and can't even string more than three words together." He sounds weary, though, as if all of Steve's issues are unavoidable and make his life so difficult.

It makes Steve willing to promise whatever Danny needs to hear, even if he doesn't know how to get there.

"I'm better?" he tries and Danny starts chuckling, which makes Steve unclench his hold on the phone and breathe a little easier.

"Okay, okay. I can live with that. You moron."

That's better. Insults are good, familiar.

"You?" Steve asks. "How are you?"

There's an unusual moment of complete silence before Danny starts talking. "Not so good, if you really want to know. But I've met my shrink - twice - and I'm working on it. You should talk to someone, too. Who knows, it might actually _help_ you."

"I hate shrinks," Steve says with a sigh. It's always the same: he never met one that didn't want to bring everything back to his mom's death and his relationship with his dad. Which, you know, they might have a point but he's not interested in talking about it.

Danny laughs. "And you think I love mine?"

Probably not.

"I'll try?" Steve concedes.

"That's the best anyone can ask for, hun."

Steve can't help but snort at the endearment. "Did you just call me honey?"

More chuckles down the line and it does something weird in Steve's chest and gets a bit of the pressure off it.

"What if I did?" Danny asks. "Does it offend you? Am I messing with your badass image?"

"No." Steve likes it, in fact, even though he knows not to take it personally since Danny does it to everyone, including perps.

"Look, I gotta go." Danny says, and he sounds sorry about it which makes the statement a bit easier to deal with. "I'm supposed to be at Rachel's at seven on the dot, or there will be hell to pay. Dinner at the Edwards, would you believe that? Grace is still a bit shaky about the whole disappearance thing, and making her wait would not be good right now."

Steve hates that Grace had to suffer from this, too. "Sure, sure, go. Be sure to behave."

"Pshah! I always behave, my friend. I am a model guest when I have to, I'll have you know. My behavior is going to be perfect. I'll be charming, I'll be funny, I'll make my little girl smile and above all I will manfully refrain from starting an argument with my ex and from hitting Stan on the nose, no matter what. Do you doubt me, McGarrett?"

Steve can imagine the whole tirade with the expressive hand gestures that no doubt accompany it and he's smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. "Whatever you say, Danno."

There's a humming sound. "I sense mockery. My radar is finely tuned to the likes of you, Steven. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Yes, I'd like that," Steve says and hopes he doesn't sound too needy. "Bye. Say hi to Grace for me."

"Sure. Later."

The line going dead almost physically hurts. Steve knows that this dependence to Danny for comfort he seems to have developed isn't sane, but he can't help it. He's always wanted Danny, but now that he's had a taste of him, even as screwed up as it was, Steve doesn't know how he'll go without. He needs to put his head on straight because they are back in the real world, now, a place where Danny doesn't offer sex for comfort because he takes pity on Steve and his emotional turmoil. It's reality where Steve is of no direct use to him, where he can't protect Danny from the bad guys every night. Where Danny is better off without someone as fucked up as he is.

He's glad they made it out but Steve had a purpose with Kigin. Now he feels kind of lost.

***

It turns out that Steve can't get back to sleep. It's probably a mixture of not wanting to fall into nightmares again, that he did spend a while out of it for the last couple of days and is now feeling restless, but most of all he doesn't want to stay in his room alone. He goes downstairs to give Chin his phone back and after watching some TV and eating a bit more, Chin seems reassured enough to go home and get some rest.

Steve's ankle deep in the surf, trying to time his breathing with the ocean and put his mind at rest when his phone chimes in his pocket. It's a text from Danny and Steve smiles.

 _"No one EVER behaved better than me, McG. HA."_

He wants to call Danny and is about to do so when another text comes in.

 _"I'm beat. I'll call you tomorrow. Good night."_

It's disappointing but Steve can live with that.

 _"Night, Danno,"_ he texts back.

He doesn't expect a reply, but then again when does Danny not try to have the last word?

 _"Why are you not asleep? REST. Night! xox"_

Steve feels like a fool when his heart speeds up at the 'xox'. When did he turn back to twelve years old again? It's just Danny being Danny and he shouldn't interpret it as the traditional hugs and kisses. Or it's just that, but what you put in get well cards, like friends. Steve's half tempted to text 'xox' back but he chickens out. He leaves the shore instead and goes to his hammock: maybe here with the waves and no walls, no cage, he'll be able to nod off a little, get some sleep.

***

The hammock, it turns out, was an excellent idea. He managed to rest and after taking a shower and eating breakfast Steve goes right back in it and brings a Sherlock Holmes novel. Now that he's not trying to find clues in them, he's curious about what managed to interest both his dad _and_ Mary. When his phone finally rings, Steve tries to get it so fast he almost drops it. It's Danny as expected and Steve guesses his smile must be more than obvious as he answers.

"Morning!"

"Hey! You seem awfully cheerful! What gives?"

"I can't be in a good mood?" Steve relaxes back in the hammock, making it sway a little.

"Sure you can, that's great. It makes me worry about what shenanigans you might be planning, though. I've come to associate your good moods with adrenaline rushes and potential disasters."

He hadn't been planning on anything, but now that Danny speaks of it, there would be things Steve would love to do to him. It sobers his mood, though, because that's off the table now even if the want and the need for Danny is there more than ever.

"Nah. I'm just chilling. It's a nice day, the sun feels great." He had missed it, stuck in that kennel.

"It sure is. Hey, I don't know if you care but I checked on Bob?" Danny blindsides him with that one. Steve had thought of the dog and wondered what had happened to the lot of them, but not enough to want to check it out. It figures Danny would, he's built for caring.

"Yeah? Where is he?"

"The pound has 'em. I couldn't sleep - and I'd like an explanation for why I suddenly think I'd be more comfortable on my floor or on a slab of fucking cement than on that shitty bed, by the way, I never had much of a problem before - so I made a couple of calls and found out where they were held." It always amazes Steve how Danny can go on a tangent and then come back right on track. He doesn't have time to speak before Danny's off again. "I went over there and it just so happens that they were sorting them out, sort of like psych evals for dogs? Some are too aggressive, but maybe a couple could be put up for adoption or retirement or shit. I put a good word in for my boy Bob."

"Did you see him?"

"Yeah," Danny sounds awfully fond. "Poor pup doesn't understand what's going on, but he was thrilled to see me. I almost got slobbered to death."

"Do you want to adopt him?" Steve knows the question is stupid as soon as it leaves his mouth.

"No, no, I can't. Can you imagine that big lug in my apartment? Bad idea."

Danny didn't say he didn't want to, but that he couldn't. The offer is automatic.

"I could keep him here. Plenty of room, a yard to run around in." _You'd feel obligated to come over every day,_ Steve thinks.

There's a short silence and when Danny speaks again it's slower, softer.

"Nah, thanks for the offer but I don't think it would work. Our job doesn't make proper time for pets, you know that. And I think Bob needs a fresh start, maybe a nice family who'll dote on him. Nothing to remind him of his previous life."

Steve reads clear as day that the idea goes both ways: they don't need Bob as a reminder of that time either.

"You're right, stupid idea."

"I wouldn't say that. It was pretty sweet in fact."

The conversation lapses after that and Steve fidgets. He blurts out "I miss you," and then gapes in shock that it even left his mouth.

Danny laughs. "Yeah? Well I've been parked in your driveway for thirty minutes and too chicken shit to go to your door, so..."

Steve's almost leaping out of his hammock, surprised when his side hurts, taking his breath away for a second. He couldn't care less, though, and he's running around the house and opening the Camaro's door, pulling Danny out.

Next thing he knows he's in a bear hug, all of his senses singing that Danny's there, he's real, alive, so alive. Danny's laughing and bitching, says he might need to breathe soon and Steve steps back, though he can't wipe the grin off his face. Danny's looking him up and down and seems happy by what he sees.

"You look better. Are you taking your meds like the doctor ordered?"

Steve nods, resists the urge to grip Danny the best he can; he has to make a conscious effort to remind himself that things are different now.

"I am. What about you?"

Danny starts walking for the house, Steve hot on his heels.

"My recovery consisted of Gatorade and Tylenols. Maybe a Xanax or two."

They end up on the couch like so many times before, Danny even has a side he usually sits on, and Steve turns on the TV and tries to find something decent to watch because that's what they usually do. Danny strongly vetoes a shark special on Animal Planet - there's a sharp hit to his arm and many insults involved - making Steve laugh. This is normal, this is good, and yes Danny's touching him from time to time but he's always been a tactile person, it doesn't mean anything. They're still partners and work together, so the list of good reasons why Steve never made a move before are still valid and right there. He doesn't kid himself, Steve knows he's in love with Danny, but he won't do casual just for sex and risk the most important friendship he's forged in years. Not even if everything he longs for right now is to touch Danny, just one last time.

It's almost a relief when Danny goes to the kitchen to get some snacks, allowing Steve to breathe a little. It's going to be rough for a little while, but Steve's used to repressing what he wants until he convinces himself it's for the best. When Danny comes back he sits down a bit closer, their thighs brushing together, and it's suddenly too much. Steve wants to lean in but he pulls away for his own sanity, scooting a bit in the other direction. Danny notices - of course he does - and he looks puzzled for a second before frowning.

"Really? Is that how it is now?" He's working up some steam by the second and Steve starts to panic, he doesn't want this to turn bad. "You can't stand me touching you anymore? Well if that's the case..."

Danny's getting up, he's leaving, he's _pissed_ and fuck, this is the worst case scenario. Steve manages to grab his wrist before he storms off. "No! I mean... why would you if you don't think you have to?"

The way Danny's mouth drops open would be funny if this was not one of the most horrible moments of Steve's life.

"Why? Are you seriously asking me _why_ I'd want to touch you?" All of Steve's insecurities must show on his face because he doesn't need to speak that Danny's reacting, throwing his free arm up in the air in a big gesture of dismay. "I can't believe... Let me spell it out for you, Steve: I've been in love with you for a while, you beautiful idiot."

It's Steve's turn to make a goldfish impression, not sure if he should trust what he's hearing. Maybe the fever is back. Maybe he fell asleep on the couch or, or in the hammock and this is just a cruel joke his subconscious is playing on him. It might be worse than the nightmare with the dogs if he wakes up. His reaction is to tighten his hold on Danny's wrist, probably too much because it makes him frown. It feels so real, though.

Danny tugs a little but he's not pulling away, so Steve loosens his hold. Danny's climbing back on the couch, though now he's straddling Steve's thighs, cupping Steve's jaw with his free hand.

"Hey, hey, don't make that face, okay? It's fucked up that it had to happen like this, in fucking cages when we thought we could die. I swear... if I could, I'd kill Kigin for stealing what should have been something fun and mind blowing, without any added drama except maybe the ruining of a good tie."

Steve rolls his head into the touch, starts to believe Danny and dares to put his hand on his hip. "I thought it was just me," he manages to croak out.

Danny smiles widely, swipes his thumb on Steve's cheekbone. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but we've been heading there for months. Besides, did you miss all the sex? I was a willing participant for that. It should have clued you in."

"I needed you, and you gave, it's what you do..." Steve tries to explain.

Shaking his head, Danny leans in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Maybe, but I wanted you. I _needed_ you, too. I still do."

Steve may or may not make a broken sound in the back of his throat and he's winding his arms around Danny, hugging him close. He doesn't want to let him go, ever. He usually avoids showing how deeply he cares because it advertises that he can be hurt. Steve has built layers and layers of defenses over the years, has tried and succeeded to keep his relationships casual for a long time because a life in the Navy - especially in the SEALs - is not conducive to anything serious. But Danny? Danny's shaking everything up, busting through walls and he demands an honest reaction, something true and Steve's powerless to resist. But what's for sure is that Danny's going to give back, give everything and the thought makes Steve almost dizzy.

"I want this, Danny, so much," he mumbles against his shoulder. Steve knows they're going to have to make efforts so it works out between them, it won't be easy. "You have to help me not fuck this up, okay?"

Danny sniggers a little at that. "Oh, babe, I'll do my best but I'm far from sure that I'm any better at this. I'll make a deal with you: I'll call you on your bullshit if you call me on mine. How does that sound?"

Since that's pretty much the base of their whole relationship, Steve smiles and pulls back from the hug to frame Danny's face with his hands instead. He's so gorgeous, especially when he looks happy like this.

"You've got yourself a deal," Steve says, before kissing him.

It's different than any kiss they've shared yet, slower for one and achingly sweet, but just as intoxicating. Steve would be happy to do just that for an hour or three but Danny's slowly breaking the kiss.

"C'mon, let's take this upstairs."

As if Steve is going to protest. Danny gets up and winces because of his bad knee and Steve bends to kiss it over the pants. He'd take all of his hurt if he could. He stands at his turn, surprised once again by his own injury, and Danny passes soft fingers where he knows the gash is. "We make quite the pair, huh?"

"Yeah," Steve says, taking Danny's hand and leading him up to the bedroom.

The windows are wide open and the room is bathed in sunlight, perfect for a new beginning and to put the darkness of the previous week behind them. Steve's breath catches in his throat when he gets Danny to lie down on the bed, sits astride his thighs and starts to slowly undo Danny's shirt buttons, the blue one that has always drove him a little crazy because it makes Danny's eyes seem even more blue than usual. Steve kisses each patch of skin he reveals, nuzzling the blond fuzz covering Danny's chest. It's like they have a tacit agreement to take it slow and Danny's got a hand in his hair and murmurs about how good it is to see him again, to touch him again. When Steve gets to the button of his pants, Danny tsks and pulls him back up.

"Nuh huh, you too," he chides, tugging at the edge of Steve's t-shirt until he can take it off without pulling too much at his side and throws it to the floor. Steve undoes the cuffs on Danny's sleeves and makes him sit up, then kisses him as he slides the fabric off his wide shoulders.

"Those fucking tight shirts," Steve mumbles, but he can't stop smiling. "You're such a frigging tease, Williams. It's like you buy 'em so they look painted on."

"Ah, like you're one to talk, Steven, stripping at every chance you get." He nips at Steve's collarbone, hands sliding up his back. "You're so fucking gorgeous. It's been driving me nuts."

Steve isn't the blushing type but the praise makes him uneasy, he tries to deflect.

"Not looking so hot right now, though."

Danny's eyebrows raise and he leans back to leer appreciatively.

"Are you kidding me? You're beautiful, babe. Inside and out."

He gets kissed for that and Steve pushes him back down on the pillow and settles on top. Their hips slot together as Danny opens his legs and there's finally some friction on Steve's dick that makes sparks of pleasure travel up his spine. He's been hard since they started kissing downstairs but it's not an urgent need, or it wasn't before now. He grinds down and the moan it brings out from Danny ratchets everything up, so he does it again to hear it once more. Not one to take without giving back, Danny pulls down insistently on Steve's right arm while pushing at his other shoulder. Steve takes the hint and rolls on his side only to be pushed onto his back when Danny ends up on top, positions reversed.

"Hello," he says, smiling widely and Steve can only grin back and card his fingers through Danny's hair that's going every direction already. He fluffs it up and laughs, while Danny rolls his eyes. "The nerve you have, messing with The Hair. You're lucky I like you."

"Yeah, I am," Steve answers, heart growing two sizes at least.

Danny kisses him deeply after that, rolling his hips in a way that's probably forbidden in more states than not. Groaning, Steve lets go of Danny's hair to slide both hands right down to his ass. Finally. That perfect ass has made his life hell some days.

"Pants," he manages to say. Danny cocks an eyebrow, mocking. "They need to go, the pants," he adds.

"Agreed."

With a hard yank, Danny gets rid of Steve's board shorts and he's soon shimmying out of his own pants and boxers, before pouncing back on Steve. One hand on each side of Steve's head, hovering and arms locked at the elbow, Danny tilts his head.

"Pants are now gone," he says with satisfaction.

Steve grins. "Success!"

He cards his fingers in Danny's chest hair, fans them across his pecs and rolls his nipples with his thumbs, noting with interest the shudder that goes through Danny. It seems to give Danny ideas, as he's lowering himself to suck at Steve's right nipple in return. Steve arches up into the sensation because fuck, that's good, he's always been sensitive and it's like a live wire to his dick. Danny's not stopping there, though, nipping and licking his way down his torso, tracing the lines of his abs with his tongue, going down, down and fuck, it takes all of Steve's control not to push at Danny's shoulder to get that sinful mouth where he really wants it.

The slow burn has morphed into a wildfire and Steve's heart is beating so hard, he can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears. He's ready to beg when Danny's mouth leaves his hipbone to trace a leisurely trail to his cock.

"How can you be beautiful everywhere, that's what I'd like to know," Danny says, hands pinning Steve's hips solidly to the bed now.

"Danny..." Steve whines.

It makes him grin, predatory, and damn him, he knows exactly what he's doing. "Yes, Steve?"

"Shut up."

Miracle of miracles, it works: Danny licks slowly up Steve's cock before taking him in his mouth and starting to suck. It's as amazing as Steve ever dared to imagine, wet and hot as hell. He doesn't know what to do with his hands so he fists them in the sheets and holds on, giving into the sensations that build fast, blindsiding him into one of the most intense orgasms of his life. It's like a thunderbolt, lighting up every nerve ending in his body, and Steve falls out of it completely boneless, drained. He's busy searching for his next breath and staring at the ceiling when Danny appears right over him again, looking extremely smug.

"Hello again," he says.

Steve manages to lift an arm and hook it around Danny's neck to pull him down.

"Hi."

Danny grinds down against his hip with a grunt, still hard, and right, Steve should do something about that. He needs a bit of coordination back first, though.

"Give me a second," Steve says, rubbing his cheek against Danny's stubble.

"I really, _really_ want to fuck you right now," Danny says, voice gravelly; Steve's heart thuds hard, heat starting to coil back in his groin already at the thought of it.

"Yes, yes, come on." Steve throws his arm wide but makes an annoyed sound when he can't reach the bedside table by three inches. He points and nudges Danny in the ribs with his other hand to make him move already. "There, slick, come on."

Danny laughs and gets it, then sits between Steve's legs who doesn't give a shit if he looks like a slut, spreading wide and asking for it. He needs this, dammit. Especially since he can't seem to stop looking at Danny's dick, standing proud: he wants him, and wants him _now_.

"Easy, Tiger," Danny says when Steve asks for more fingers, faster, fucking himself on Danny's hand because it feels so good. "We're doing this right or not at all, got it?"

Steve doesn't really believe Danny would stop, but he grinds his teeth and takes a deep breath, trying not to be too pushy. He's rewarded by Danny deliberately grazing his prostate, making him arch off the bed with a keening sound. Steve might be able to get hard again with a bit more time so he relaxes as much as he can and follows Danny's lead, who plays hard ball and starts to suck him again, softer but relentless as he stretches and lubes. It's almost too much, really toeing the line and driving Steve completely nuts.

"Danny, please, please..." he begs. "Fuck me now, okay? Come on."

With a hum Danny lets him slip out of his mouth and Steve's half hard, it's already something, it's enough and he doesn't care if he comes again or not. He hasn't been fucked in years and he's never, ever, wanted it this much.

"Another reason to do it right, then," Danny says, as he hoists Steve's hips up to place a pillow under him, angling him as he wishes. Steve wasn't even aware he was talking out loud and with anyone else he'd worry about losing so much control.

Steve watches like a hawk when Danny rolls down a condom and slicks himself, wanting to commit every detail to memory. Danny's beautiful like this, a deep flush on his face and chest and eyes so dark with arousal that there's barely a ring of pure azure visible. Steve has never needed someone this much, and not just physically. He craves everything that makes Danny Williams the most important person in his life.

When Danny finally pushes in, Steve groans deeply and lifts his legs to wrap them around Danny's waist, ankles crossed that he uses to try and pull him deeper. It feels fantastic.

"I - I might, huh," Danny's bottomed out and he's panting near Steve's ear. "Might have, sort of, under-huh, underestimated how incredible this - Jesus fuck - this would be."

Danny's shaking with the need to move, to fuck, and Steve urges him on, cants his hips a little. "C'mon, c'mon Danny."

"I won't last," Danny pants, strangled. "You feel too good."

"I don't care." He really, really doesn't. Danny could come right now and it would still be the best sex of his life.

"Here goes nothing," Danny says with a strangled whisper before finally giving in and starting to move and Steve laughs, he loves him so much.

For a guy who supposedly was right about to come, Danny gets an impressive rhythm going, fucking him with short hard strokes that have Steve scrambling for purchase at his shoulders.

"Oh, fuck," he repeats endlessly, eyes rolling to the back of his head and when Danny starts to stutter in his rhythm, right on the brink, Steve manages to shove a hand between them and close his fist around his cock. The touch sets him off, and he clenches around Danny as he comes his brains out a second time in minutes, the feeling bordering between ecstasy and too much. Danny shouts and stills, coming deep inside Steve at his turn and then settles down on him, panting.

Steve feels giddy with the endorphins flowing in his system, feeling as if he's been taken apart and made up new, better. He tightens his legs and arms around Danny and squeezes, making him gasp a strangled laugh.

"Careful! You'll snap me in two, you giant freak."

"Nah," Steve says, carefully putting his legs down. Danny finds the energy necessary to pull out and dispose of the condom before flopping right back onto Steve with a satisfied sigh, mindless of the mess Steve made on his own stomach.

"This," Danny says, giving little pats on Steve's chest. "This was good. Very good. Thank you, babe."

With a snort, Steve turns to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank _you_ ," he says with feeling. After a beat, he adds, "and it was more than very good."

"Come on... You knew it, I knew it, everyone knew it: it was always a given we'd make sparks," Danny says before he breaks into a deep yawn. "Now shut up and sleep."

"Yes, Danno," he humors, happy to hold a drowsy Danny in his arms again.

In his bed. Which is light years better than what happened before and closer to the fantasies Steve played with for months. Already the horror and the ugliness of the whole ordeal with Kigin fades a little, though Steve knows he'll inevitably have to deal with the consequences, psychological and otherwise. It did a number on him, shook him to the core and Danny won't let it go unattended and will probably force him to see that shrink. But Danny will be there too, right by Steve's side, every step of the way.

Danny will always be there to offer comfort, Steve knows that he can count on that like on the sky being blue. Partners, all the way, blurring all of the lines like they do best. But Steve's going to be right there for him, too.

Together, they can face everything.

The End

 **Quotes from the movie Fight Club (1999)**

 _You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?_ \- The Narrator

and

 _Only after disaster can we be resurrected._ \- Tyler Durden

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank jaydblu and iam_space for their tremendous help as betas and cheerleaders. It means the world to me ♥
> 
> Also, this fic was written for the wonderful siluria, who won me in the auction to generate funds for the floods in Queensland (qldfloodauction).
> 
> FYI, the fic was posted on LJ [here](http://gottalovev.livejournal.com/356178.html). I strongly suggest you go see the wonderful art that was made by my friends iam_space, ellel and hitlikehammers for this story, it's amazing! (click on the preview to reach the art post!)
> 
>   
> [   
> ](http://gottalovev.livejournal.com/355574.html)
> 
> Thank you for reading =D


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